Falling
by Canadino
Summary: What better way of celebrating the fall of the Millefore than with a party? In a dark room with strobe lights? And repressed memories? 6984, slight 1827, 8059


**Disclaimer: If Katekyo Hitman Reborn were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: Jai Ho – PCD ft. Sukhwinder Singh

**Minimal fluff 09!**

--

Falling

As expected of the overzealous, easily-excited Vongola family…Mukuro sat on the ledge of the rooftop on the skyscraper, staring down at the pretty invitation to a celebration party at the defeat of Byakuran. It had crests stamped all over, as if Lambo had gone crazy with the graphics, all pertaining to the Vongola. Lacy green writing that read 'You're Invited' looked out of place in such a harsh world like the Vongola; Mukuro would have thought it would be more appropriate on Chrome's wedding invitation, if Chrome would stop living life to its fullest to settle down.

"Party, huh?" Flitting the invitation in his fingers until it fell in danger of being carried away by the wind, Mukuro glanced over Namimori. He was still in the area (after all, he really was still recovering from his injuries and blood loss) and would be gone soon…perhaps he really _ought_ to join in the festivities once in a while…after all, as Reborn said, a sense of family really wasn't a bad thing. But it wasn't like he was looking forward to seeing all those idiots again.

Well, that wasn't completely true…he did want to see

"Hey! What are you doing here?" A security guard pulled Mukuro out of his thoughts and he turned. A burly guard was making his way toward him. "This is private property! How did you get up here?"

"_Mi dispiace_," Mukuro said with a smirk. "I'll take my leave now." If he had still been his young self, he might have killed the man, but there was no need for unnecessary bloodshed. There were better things to waste his energy on. Like water, Mukuro seemed to slip off the ledge and off the building completely. The guard's eyes widened and he ran to the ledge.

"Oy, there was no need for something that desperate!" The guard leaned over to look, terrified about this apparent suicide and the headlines the newspaper would blare. However, there was no falling body to be seen. Behind him, he heard the slamming of the door to the roof. His eyes bulged out even more. The only reason why the door stayed propped because it could only be opened from the inside. He would spend the next hours pounding on the door waiting for someone to get him. "Hey!"

Mukuro chuckled as he hurried down the stairs. Even after having his skills gouged out, he still could produce very lifelike illusions. Taking on the form of the bulky guard, he sauntered down the hallway. Spotting a fellow guard, Mukuro beckoned him of.

"The door to the roof has gotten a bit loose and it's quite windy outside today. So don't mind the banging coming from the roof. It's just the wind."

"Ah, thanks for the warning."

Mukuro's smirk grew as he walked out of the building and slowly shed his disguise, so if a human eye was watching him, it would be a miraculous transformation from a bulky man to a lanky one. He continued his way down the street, hearing faint calls for help from the roof.

--

Maybe if he had something better to do that Friday night, Mukuro might have done something else, gone somewhere else. But seeing as he was without a mission for the weekend, he decided to be frivolous and attend the stupid Vongola party. Under disguise, of course, since Rokudo Mukuro didn't just show up to _any_ party. He slipped past Lambo, who was _supposed_ to be the bouncer, who was just attempting to shy away from Reborn's advances. Horny teenagers; he definitely wasn't like that when he was younger.

Just like the little Decimo to hold such a gaudy party. The mafia had been able to pull some strings to get to a nice little nightclub for the night with cheap lights and pop music. Mukuro supposed he ought to give Tsunayoshi some credit; the music was catchy and cultured even if the band playing looked like they had been picked off the streets. Most of the mafia men were sitting and drinking while the women were dancing in the middle of the room along with some other VIPs. The flashing strobe lights were frankly, giving the illusionist headaches, but he'd only be there for a while, right?

Chrome had come, as expected, to have some fun. She had finally been able to detach herself from Mukuro's body, even though she continued her loyalty and friendship to him, and she was now making the most of the body she now inhabited freely. She really was still very skinny; he'd ask Ken or Chikusa to remind her to eat. Even now, though, she was wearing a skintight black dress and dancing next to Kyoko and Haru, whom she had been good friends with every since the Millefore incident a few months ago (ten years ago, obviously). I-Pin was lingering around the band, staring at them as if she had never seen singers before.

Slipping into a barstool, Mukuro recognized the bookkeeper of the Vongola, Fuuta. Fuuta didn't recognize this stranger, though, and cheerfully greeted him. "Hello! What would you like to drink?"

"Dry gin. No ice."

"Coming right up. Would you like something to eat?" Fuuta gestured toward a plate of snacks, which Mukuro guessed that poison girl had cooked up. Shaking his head slightly, Mukuro let Fuuta make his drink as he scanned the room.

The Tenth Vongola had really had some strings to pull. This was a fancy little club, which was unusually located on the second floor of a hidden away building. The room was small, which was appropriate, since there wasn't that much guests anyway. Doing a quick lookover, Mukuro spotted the silver haired right hand man locking lips with that unbearably cheerful swordsman. Beasts. Looking away, he saw the teenagers of the Vongola slinking away into the shadows. Searching through the darkened tables for the boss, he found Tsuna sitting in a booth with Hibari. It _looked_ like they were talking, but it also looked like they were sharing in the same past time as the idiot bomber. What was this, junior high?

Two sore thumbs also stood out at this party. Blond mechanic Spanner was standing as awkward as a wallflower, staring at the strobe lights and amps, since they were the most technological advancements in the room. Shouchi, the worrisome spy in the Millefore, was fidgeting while attempting to strike up conversation with Spanner, to no avail. He didn't know why they were there in the first place; they weren't dancers to begin with and they just looked very out of place.

"Here's your dry gin, no ice." Mukuro glanced at Fuuta with a nod and grabbed his drink. He'd down a few rounds and mess around before leaving. It sounded like a perfect plan. He'd scout out the place first, standing at the wall like Shouchi, although looking much more suave. He was going to settle in and get comfortable when he bumped into a shadow that he hadn't seen that was also standing at the wall. This place was the breeding ground for wallflowers, wasn't it? Mukuro was about to give the person a piece of his mind when he noticed who it was.

The song was presently some kind of indie pop which Mukuro found the beats infuriating, but Basil was nodding along, almost oblivious that someone had bumped into him. Mukuro took a drink before putting it down on a nearby ledge, unsure of how to proceed. He had briefly talked to this graceful young man a few times before, once or twice in their youth, and had always been amused at how wickedly seductive he could be.

"Mukuro-san, we didn't think you'd come."

Mukuro blinked. "How did you know who I was?"

"First of all, there's that. And everyone else is here, so who else would you be?" Shooting the taller man a sly smile, Basil's eyes still hid behind a veil of soft brown hair, almost hiding the blue eyes completely. Even though he had grown older and had dropped the honorific tic, Mukuro still saw traces of the childhood innocence Basil still retained and kept silent. Resting his hands against his back, leaning against the wall, Mukuro frowned as the lights flashed over them.

"Annoying little activities the Decimo likes to participate in."

"He thought it would be more age appropriate and the girls were enthusiastic about it. And you're here, aren't you?"

Mukuro turned to see the challenging smile that Basil was giving him. "You're a strange little Mafioso, boy."

Ignoring this comment, Basil nodded toward the balcony, which let in a brilliant moonlight. "Would you like to get some air with me? You've looked uncomfortable since you've come inside."

"You noticed?"

"You're a presence that's hard to overlook." Basil laughed as Mukuro gave him a stony look. "Come on. I don't bite."

Mukuro was about to say it was fine, that he would continue looking for an opening to possess Tsuna's body at this dark place, but like before, had he had anything better to do…so he found himself outside in the cold night breeze with the pulses of music reaching their ears even behind a wall of glass. The lights and cars running in the distance was a calm backdrop as the moon shone above, casting a mysterious light on everything it touched.

"You're not much of a dancer, boy."

"I wasn't raised to be flashy, that's all. And although you are older, could you stop calling me 'boy'? It's just odd, that's all." Basil chuckled and Mukuro raised his eyebrow.

"Alright…how about bella?"

Basil almost rolled his eyes, but maybe he did, Mukuro couldn't tell in the darkness. "It was cute when we were younger, but it's not going to fluster me like it did back then."

"Ah, so it did when we were younger. I seem to recall you denying the whole thing."

Basil shrugged, wrinkling the shoulders of the suit that was the uniform of the mafia. "I'm older," he repeated shortly.

"But really," Mukuro said, doggedly going back to the original topic. "You should really dance if the music agrees with you. It's no good letting it simmer inside."

"And you would know?"

"I really don't like this tongue you've gotten. What as the Decimo been teaching you?"

"And _I_ seem to recall you liking this tongue when we were younger," Basil retorted with a smirk. "You usually don't come back, Mukuro. Why now?"

Mukuro shrugged, at the same time shrugging off his disguise. "I had nothing else to do."

"Is that so?"

Mukuro let a slow smile creep across his face like maple syrup. "What do you want me to say? That I came to see you?"

"I wouldn't mind that, if that's what you're implying."

Mukuro laughed, his usual husky laugh. Basil smiled but nothing escaped his lips. "How is your eye? Byakuran really took it out; good thing you've got something almost as good." Basil took a step forward, bringing them a breath apart from each other, skittering his fingers around the new right eye. Enjoying the contact, Mukuro reached out for Basil, spinning him around so the latter's back was pressed against his chest.

"Try dancing, bella, it's fun."

"You never give up, do you." Feeling Mukuro's hands against his hips, Basil let the darkness hide his flushed face. "Alright, I'll bite. So, how exactly do we 'dance'? Surely you're not suggesting a waltz out here?"

"No, it's easy. Just swing your hips back and forth."

"I'm not a girl, Mukuro." But Basil let Mukuro guide his hips side to side, _almost_ becoming suggestive in the calm spring air. Mukuro had no plan to let go of Basil, but the Dying Will user placed his hands over Mukuro's, effectively pinning them there. The song dropped dangerously low as the singer writhed on the stage and Mukuro was relieved that even though so much time, so many lives had passed, he still had one constant, Basil's sweet scent, even if it had been slightly masked by cologne.

The song's tempo became deep and vibrated through the air, sending electric shocks to the listeners as Basil turned around and Mukuro leaned down to capture the lips he hadn't tasted for a good seven years. Another sweet constant, although one he would probably be fasting from for another good long time. He had had many partners before, and no doubt until he was ready to die, he would have many others – but Basil would by far the most memorable. Perhaps not the most beautiful (after all, he _was_ Mukuro, charmed ladykiller) nor the most intelligent, but the one who had remained more or less the same innocent soul he had been in the beginning. Maybe Basil had learned some of his tsudere-ness from Tsuna, or maybe even silver bomber, but it was refreshing change.

"So…" Mukuro let his hands drop dangerously low and Basil sighed. "Did you learn anything _else_ when I was gone?"

"Is that all you can ever think about?" Mukuro chuckled again, dipping his head down to ghost Basil's lips. "Well, it's hard not to when it comes to you, bella."

"Oh, hush." Basil leaned up for another kiss before turning inside thoughtfully. "There was a coatroom that could be locked."

"I think the babies took that one."

"Lambo and Reborn? Oh god." Sighing, Basil shook his head. "Then I'm fresh out of ideas."

Mukuro nuzzled the nape of Basil's neck, enjoying the scent once more. "I'm sure if it's us, we'll find a way, eh? We always have. Remember that time at the Vongola house…"

"No thank you for reminding me, Mukuro. Ah, I see the babies. The coatroom should be free."

"It's more like a motel now, isn't it? Better get it before those two get to it," Mukuro said, gesturing toward Gokudera and Yamamoto. "Stupid Decimo…should have held this thing at a hotel. At least we'd get towels."

In the darkness and rising warmth in the now messy coatroom, Mukuro couldn't clearly see Basil's blue eyes anymore, but he could hear his voice, soft in the black. "It was fun dancing with you after all, Mukuro."

Pausing, Mukuro leaned forward in the darkness again, catching Basil's lips once more. "It's not middle school anymore, Basil."

Owari

--

Note: Actually it is, with all the making out in a party. My friend introduced me to Jai Ho today, the English version, and I liked it so much I downloaded it, it was catchy enough for me to actually write this. I think I got them a bit OOC, Basil's much more tsudere I think. It was like writing USUK or something, but not really. I find the image of the two grinding a bit disturbing, hence I did not go into detail. Does the mafia grind? We may never know. Shush girl, shush your lips, do the Helen Keller. You have no idea how close I was to putting those lyrics in. be glad I didn't. REVIEW thanks.


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